Dreams Are Simply Memories of Past Lives
by WaldoIsHiddenHere
Summary: Based on Kurinoone's Dark Prince trilogy: What if while Harry was being raised by the fake Potters he had a dream that was actually a memory of when he was with the real Potters? R&R!


**Hi, all! This is based on Kurinoone's ****_awesome_**** Dark Prince trilogy, so lots of credit goes to her, but some credit also goes to Bre2734 for giving the idea to Kurinoone for her to write...anyhoo, thanks to both of them! Hope you guys enjoy this! :)**

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Harry Potter, recently turned four years old, cried softly to himself as he eased himself onto his bed on his stomach. His back was torn up from the beating he'd received just an hour before for not putting the glasses out on the table for dinner. He was sure all of the skin had been ripped off, but he couldn't see it, so he wasn't sure. Maybe if he was lucky enough, his mum would clean up the blood dripping onto the bed so that his dad didn't beat him for ruining it…

He wished, not for the first time, that his parents loved him. He could never do anything right, but he was sure that parents were supposed to love their kids, no matter what.

These thoughts drifted through his head as he closed his eyes to go to sleep.

Later, Harry opened his eyes to find himself sitting in some sort of enclosement. He sat up, and realized he was in a crib, one typically for babies and toddlers. He was confused when he looked around – it was the spare room, but now there were toys all over the floor and purple and blue hippogriffs painting the walls. His heart began to beat faster as he saw the mess all over – his dad would surely be mad when he found that it wasn't picked up. As he thought this, he realized that he felt no pain, anywhere on his body. He looked down at his arm – it wasn't healed the wrong way like it had been for several months now, but rather the skin looked flawless. He stood up, and suddenly realized that he was standing _in _the bed, like he had no solid form.

His train of thought was interrupted by his dad coming into the room. He shrank back, but James wasn't looking at him. He was looking at something to his right. Harry looked over and saw a baby with a dark head of hair, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he woke up. His bottom half was wet – it seemed that his diaper had soaked through in the night. He worried for the boy – would James hurt the helpless baby for making the mess? It had happened to Harry enough times when he had an accident in the night.

But James only smiled, and Harry was startled to see that there was no malice in it. The smile made his eyes twinkle in mirth, for once not in amusement at Harry's pain. He leaned over the crib and looked at the baby, who stopped rubbing his eyes to reach pudgy arms upward to be picked up.

"Dada," the baby gurgled, and Harry suddenly realized that the baby's eyes were exactly like his own, though not as dead and empty.

_That's me, _he realized. _This must be a memory._

But the James that chuckled in a you're-so-adorable way was nothing like the James that Harry knew. He watched as James said in a cooing voice:

"Hey, little man – you made a bit of a mess, didn't you?"

The baby Harry blew raspberries with his spit as James leaned down and hefted him out of the crib. Once he was settled on his father's hip, he hugged his arms to the older man in complete trust.

"We need to get you all cleaned up, huh, Harry?" James said in his baby voice as he carried him over to the changing table. "Mummy wants to take us on a trip today! Does that sound like fun?"

The baby Harry swatted his dad's chest as though in answer, and James chuckled as he maneuvered him around to lie on the table, supporting his head on the way down.

"Yeah, I don't think so either," he said as though having a real conversation with the not even one-year-old child. "But you know your mum – has to visit Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice at some Muggle restaurant. But you'll be able to see Neville again! Are you happy about that?"

Baby Harry clapped his hands gleefully as James began to unzip his onesie pajamas.

"You guys are going to be best friends as you get older," James mused, tossing the soggy pajamas to the hamper beside the table. "I bet you and him and Ron will be like me and Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius."

Baby Harry clapped and kicked his feet as though in agreement. "Pafoo!" he squealed with laughter in his high voice.

James chuckled as he grabbed a diaper and the package of wipes from the pocket on the side of the table. "Padfoot," he corrected, speaking clearly and slowly so that Harry could hear it right. Harry kicked his foot in response. "'Course, there's still Peter, being the fourth Marauder, so you need someone else in your group, too. Let's see…who else is your age?" he began to tear the Velcro away on the diaper. Then his hands paused and he looked at the baby in playful sternness. "I don't care who you become friends with, but do _not _become friends with Malfoy's boy! He may be the same age as you, but he is the devil's spawn. I don't want you mixing with that sort."

"Ma'foy, Ma'foy," baby Harry babbled.

James shook his head in amusement and moved the diaper, and then cringed as the smell assaulted his nose stronger than before.

"Yuck, Harry!" he said in teasing horror. "That _stinks_!"

"'tink!" Harry repeated, kicking his little legs.

"Yeah, it _stinks_!" James said, plugging his nose theatrically. Then he removed his hand and said in a stage whisper, "Will you keep it a secret from Mummy if I use _Evanesco _on it?"

"_Don't_ even think about it!" A voice came from the door, and older Harry turned to see his mum dressed in casual Muggle attire, fighting an amused smile as she looked at her husband and son.

"Mama!" Harry squealed, stretching his arms out toward her.

"Hey, little guy!" she said with a grin as she walked over to them. She ran a hand over his scalp before turning to fix James with a glare.

"I don't want you using the Vanishing Spell anywhere _near _Harry – with your luck, you would Vanish _him_!"

"Well, now that's a bit harsh," Sirius Black's voice came from the doorway as he followed her in. he was dressed in Muggle jeans and a leather jacket over a gray T-shirt. "I don't think Prongs is _that _daft. But it's not a good idea, in any case," he said the last part to placate Lily. Then he turned to James, saying, "Just change his nappy like Muggles do and let's go!"

"What's the rush, Padfoot?" James said, taking hold of Harry's ankles to lift the lower half of his body to remove the diaper from underneath him. "We've still got at least an hour before we meet them."

Sirius shrugged and went to tickle baby Harry's tummy. Harry laughed gleefully and curled up, kicking his legs out as though trying to get away but knowing he wasn't able to.

"Oi!" James said, slapping Sirius' hand away. "Trying to wipe poop away, here! I don't need the excess on the table!"

Sirius chuckled, eyes alight with mirth. "Hey, I can't help it when it comes to my favorite little Prongslet!" He bent down over the changing table and blew raspberries against Harry's tummy, making Harry laugh loudly again. James slapped his head to get him away.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter as he stood, and then a grimace crossed his face as he smacked his lips. He pointed to Harry's kicking form and said in mock sternness to James:

"That child needs a bath before we go _anywhere_!"

"Thank you for volunteering!" Lily said cheerfully. "I knew you'd be willing!"

Sirius just let out an insufferable sigh, knowing just by the look on Lily's face that he wasn't getting out of it. But even the watching Harry could see that he didn't truly mind.

"Great!" James exclaimed, lifting Harry by the armpits and holding him out to Sirius. "Now I don't need to get him into a new nappy!"

Sirius' eyes widened. "But he still has poo on his bum!"

James nodded, an amused glint in his eye. "It's a good thing water washes it off, isn't it?"

"Why can't you just...I don't know, wipe it off with the wipes?"

"Because that would be a complete waste," Lily said amusedly. "Go on, Sirius - you're the one that made it smear up his back when you were tickling him."

"And you can't deny your favorite godson, can you?" James pointed out teasingly, for baby Harry had begun to chant "Pafoo, pafoo, pafoo" as he reached his arms out to Sirius to be held.

"Harry is my _only _godson," Sirius pointed out.

James grinned. "Then it's a good thing you love him so damn much, isn't it?"

"James!" Lily reprimanded. "No swearing in front of Harry!"

Sirius sighed and shrugged out of his jacket and then pulled off his T-shirt before taking Harry from James and resting him on his hip in the same way James had before and beginning to bounce him up and down.

"I'm gonna take my own shower after this," he said with a sigh. "I do _not _want to smell like Harry-poo all day."

"Don't ever say 'Harry-poo' again, Padfoot," James said with a serious face, though his eyes were twinkling with mirth. "You sound like an overzealous girlfriend and I don't want to _ever _hear about that when it concerns you and my son!"

Sirius rolled his eyes, bouncing Harry on his hip. "I meant Harry's _poo_, Prongs." he said with a sigh.

"Sirius - " Lily started to warn him about Harry, whose face had begun turning a sickly shade of green due to the bouncing. But it was too late, and Harry was sick all down his godfather's front. Sirius stopped moving and just closed his eyes as the baby vomit dripped down his chest and into his pants. Baby Harry let out a giggle.

"You know what," Sirius said, opening his eyes, "I don't think I can stand in baby poo and vomit for any longer. I think I'll just take Harry in the shower _with _me." He turned to leave, and then paused as he realized what he'd said. He looked back to see James and even Lily fighting back grins.

"Not a word," he warned. "I don't even want to hear it."

* * *

Harry's eyes opened again and he stared at his dark attic for several moments before attempting to sit up. He hissed as his aches and pains came back to him in full force, and he remembered that what he'd seen had been a dream. Only that - a dream. But it had felt so real, he was sure that it was a memory.

_They loved me __**then**__, _he thought hopefully. _I can make them love me again, if I just try harder..._

* * *

Voldemort saw the hopeful spark in Harry's eyes and he sighed internally. Harry kept having memories of his real parents - he had been since he got there, but in the past week they had been more frequent. He wasn't quite sure why they'd been more frequent recently, but he couldn't let the boy have that hope. He needed to be broken. He needed to stop being plagued by memories of his past life; he needed to believe the Potters didn't love him. His plan wouldn't work otherwise.

As the boy came down the stairs from the attic, he removed the wand from his robes pocket and pointed it at him. Harry didn't notice, which was just as well. He needed to be punished again for wandering about confusedly, to break him down. He would not have anyone taking his soldier away from him. He needed to be broken.

So the Dark Lord felt no remorse, no regret, as he whispered the word that was already beginning to grow to be familiar in Harry's life and would later shape everyone's around him...

_"Obliviate."_

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**So...do you guys like? Please review and tell me! :)**


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